


A Lack of Color

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Death Cab for Cutie, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, Insecurity, Lack of Color, M/M, One-Shot, Supernatural - Freeform, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:19:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel’s in love, and Dean’s searching for the humanity within his angelic facade. Based off of the song A Lack of Color by Death Cab For Cutie. Alternates POV’s between Dean and Cas. Set in season five, while Sam is off trying to live a normal life. Warning: AU and I’m only human so if there is a continuity error or lets say... a character is there who isn’t supposed to be, the label ALTERNATE UNIVERSE shall justify it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lack of Color

**Author's Note:**

> :D   
> I love Death Cab for Cutie  
> and this song was perfect so  
> here we go!
> 
> Music (obviously): Lack of Color ~ Death Cab For Cutie

*********

_If you feel discouraged_  
That there's a lack of color here  
Please don't worry lover  
It's really bursting at the seams  
For absorbing everything  
The spectrum's a to z

_This is fact not fiction  
For the first time in years_

_and all the girls in every girlie magazine_  
Can't make me feel any less alone  
I'm reaching for the phone 

_To call at 7:03 [and] on your machine I slur a plea for you to come home_  
But I know it's too late  
I should have given you a reason to stay  
Given you a reason to stay [x3] 

_This is fact not fiction  
For the first time in years_

 

**********

 

Cas isn’t sure exactly _when_ he fell in love with Dean, only that he fell fast and hard and wholeheartedly.

 

He doesn’t understand human emotions either; doesn’t understand the despondency they accuse him of having, doesn’t understand why they can’t feel his emotions in the air his aura, why he must project them outwards. Because Castiel feels. He is one big wavelength of celestial intent and emotion and apparently too much heart. 

 

He doesn’t understand why Dean of all people can’t see that too. 

It’s 7:03 pm; Sam is gone and has been for a while now. Bartending or whatever they called it and living a ‘normal life’. Dean is drunk, ‘shit faced’ as he would call it, and for some reason he’s prayed to Cas. Its been happening more frequently lately, prayers in the dark, and other things too, things that Cas can’t think about, things that make him almost unspeakably happy but at the same time completely terrify him.

 

But still he comes, because this is Dean, and he will always try and be there for him. Because he loves him and there’s no point in denying it.

 

************

 

The motel room Dean rented out is dark, quiet except for the heavy breathes and the whispered words and everything is just _Cas._

 

Sometimes Dean thinks about how wrong this all is. An angel and a human. An angel and _Dean_ , who had always been straight as a pole. And _Castiel_ , who was a fucking angel, who shouldn’t exactly _have_ gender and yet... he was most definitely male to him.

 

But right now Dean isn’t thinking very well. His thoughts are all focused on Cas; like he’s the only thing in universe that matters, and he’d like to think that Cas felt the same way.

 

Which he probably doesn’t, angel of the lord and all.

 

Afterwards, in the morning, when Dean wakes up he’s alone. Its always like this, pillows straightened, no clothes left behind, everything hazy like a dream. Except Dean knows its not, because there’s a feather left on the pillow next to him, and Dean keeps it in his pocket like the others.

 

The next time Dean prays to Cas is several hours later. He’s not drunk, its not night time, and there are demons and _hellhounds_ on his ass and he’s trapped inside an abandoned corner store just waiting to die.

 

For a moment it almost seems like the angel won’t show up; that last night had been the absolute last and that Cas had realized he had more important things to do than coddle a human.

 

Something wails outside, a high keening accompanied by human sounding screams before a flash of pure light shatters the windows and blows Dean back into the wall. The lights die out, throwing off sparks. A radio somewhere in the storm turns on and starts to play static. _Castiel._

 

There’s a stout shadow in the doorway before Cas steps through in all his dirty trench coat glory, slightly bloody, hair as messy as ever. 

 

Dean’s never seen anybody look so good.

 

Castiel reaches down and helps him up, face stoic, calm. “Are you okay?” he says, and it sounds like a prerecorded message.

 

“Yeah,” Dean breathes, _now that I’m with you._ It sounds ridiculously sappy even within his head, and then remembers Cas can read minds.

 

If he hears anything he doesn’t let it show. Dean stands up straight, now looming over Castiel slightly. He’s about to lean in and kiss him when the angel steps back. Dean steps back too in response, feeling a pang of hurt.

 

“I should be going now,” Castiel says, and then he’s gone the next time Dean blinks.

 

**************

 

When Cas returns the fight to save the seal is already over. It’s been broken.

 

Uriel comes at him hard and swift, shoving Castiel into a wall and pinning him there. _“This is the apocalypse, Castiel.”_ he hisses, speaking in enochian. _“and it is one seal closer to happening. Tell me, how much is your human worth, compared to that?”_

 

_“He is the one who will end it all.”_ Cas replies angrily, knowing that this wasn’t even near to the reason he was dropping everything to help Dean. _“He should be protected.”_

 

_“We just lost a seal because of you,”_ Uriel growls. He lets Cas go and switches back to english mockingly. “Good job, Castiel.”

 

The next time Dean calls on him, to help him with a particularly ancient and nasty witch, Cas stays much longer than the last time.

 

*************

 

Dean’s still a bit confused and admittedly hurt after his last encounter with Castiel; it shocks the knife right out of his hand and onto the concrete when Cas grabs him and kisses the breath out of him _against the fucking Impala,_ right after he’d smote the magic right out of the witch Dean had been having trouble with. 

 

Dean pushes away only when he starts feeling a bit lightheaded, envious of Cas’s angelic ability to hold his breath infinitely. He’s almost sitting on the hood of the car, Dean realizes.

 

_“Cas,”_ he breathes after a moment. “Dude, what’s going on?”

 

Castiel’s face is only slightly flustered; his blue eyes are like neon lights trying to bore right through him. He brings a hand up to almost stroke Cas’s face, it makes something unknown within Dean stir when the angel leans into the touch and sighs. It’s the first time they’ve ever been out and showing affection, and Cas seems so tired Dean wonders for a moment whether he really knows what he’s doing.

 

“Dean,” Cas says, the words like a statement, a greeting, and an invitation to bed. The voice is still as gravelly as ever, rough like he hasn’t used it in a while. “I... missed you.”

“Yeah,” Dean replies because he’s not sure what to do with this tired, affectionate angel. “Let’s drive back, okay?” 

 

Cas nods and Dean climbs into the driver’s seat. Castiel’s already inside.

 

“So...” Dean says awkwardly, because for some reason he can’t tolerate this silence right now. “What have you been up to?”

 

Cas is still staring straight ahead when he answers. “Handling the situation,” he replies, glancing over at Dean. “How have you been doing, Dean?” 

 

He says the words with an odd vacancy, like his mind is elsewhere. Heck, it probably is.

 

So Dean let’s him sit out the car ride and doesn’t try and make anymore conversation. To be honest there isn’t much coherent conversation for the rest of the night.

 

***************

 

Dean’s starting feel like there are two Cas’s that take turns answering his calls; his Cas, the one who leaves feathers and kisses and sweet words and Castiel, robo angel-of-the-lord. He’s pretty sure he’s said _I love you_ at least once to the angel; an amazing feat actually, considering he’s allergic to the word unless in life or death situation most of the time. He’s also pretty sure there’s never been an answer. 

 

That fact scares him a bit. It frustrates him and leaves him vulnerable where he never wants to be vulnerable again. Because Dean’s let Castiel in, and he isn’t sure how he would cope with yet another person leaving him. 

 

Dean has hardcore, I’ll-leave-you-before-you-leave-me, abandonment issues.

 

Which is why, maybe two months after the whole make-out scene on the Impala and robo-Cas decides to sidle in once again, Dean can’t restrain himself. 

It’s like he’s in a goddamn dessert, standing in an oasis that sometimes lets him drink and sometimes changes into a bone dry riverbed. 

 

They’re in a dusty parking lot just outside of what had been a coven of vampires, but was now a smoking building. Castiel’s face is unreadable, he doesn’t respond when Dean kisses him lightly, just looks at Dean with those eyes.

 

“Cas, can you please tell me what the hell this is.” Dean demands, stepping closer to the angel, feeling all the anxiety and frustration of the fucking apocalypse crash down on him. “Because right now... right now I _can’t_ understand what we’re doing and I,” he breathes out in exasperation at Cas’s non-plussed expression. “I can’t keep this going, if all you’re doing is pretending. I can’t do that again.”

 

Dean swallows, trying to come out of this chick-flick mood he’s in, but at this moment he just can’t continue something that was never there. Cas blinks up at him, face remaining unchanged, and Dean sighs, stepping back. His chest feels leaden; he’s about to turn away so Cas can’t see the expression on his face (or perhaps so that he doesn’t have to look at the non-expression of Cas’s) when Castiel reaches up and out lightning fast. His hand finds Dean’s cheek, and Dean can almost detect a flicker beneath those electric blue eyes before Cas’s hand reaches his forehead, and then everything fades out.

 

**************

 

The place Dean finds himself in is hard to describe.

 

He’s not even sure its a place at all; it lives and breathes, so filled with light he should be blind, so ancient he can feel to pulse of the very earth itself like a memory. 

 

Everything is so absolutely overwhelming Dean has a feeling if he could comprehend it all he may as well be dead; he can feel himself being protected from it, cushioned. The place isn't physical; it's an ocean of memories and power and more _light_ and so much _color_ , colors that had never existed before, colors that he knows his eyes wouldn't see.

 

The colors are like liquid, like warm blankets of emotion and he feels himself being swathed in love, buried in adoration, showered in respect. He feels the essence of wherever he is fill him up with most wonderful warmth; he feels the strain of an apocalypse drain away.

 

And the he can feel it fading away, sinking back into the world. The warmth doesn't fade though, the feeling of being wrapped in love still lingers. Dean realizes in amazement he doesn't feel so _empty_ anymore.

 

Returning to the world, Dean becomes aware of a different kind of warmth, the kind that comes from another living breathing body.

 

Dean is curled up on his side, completely enveloped in _Cas_ , arms wrapped around him, arms and _wings_ and he realizes that he hadn't been _somewhere_ , he had been inside _someone_ and they had been the exact opposite of a fucking dry desert.

 

"Dean?" Cas whispers, and Dean has never felt more safe, more _loved_ , swathed in angel wings. As if knowing this Cas tightens his grip, invisible feathers brushing his face.

 

Dean doesn't realize he's holding his breath until he speaks. "Cas," he breathes out. Cas's head is fitted between his neck and shoulder and everything fits perfectly.

 

"Are you alright?" Cas asks. "My true form, as you know, is overwhelming to most. I did my best to shield you but,"

 

"I'm fine Cas," Dean says softly, _more than fine_. "Why did you....?"

 

"I'm not acclimated to being human," the words are muffled as Cas buries his head in the material of Dean's shirt, breath fanning out across his neck. "I wanted to show you what I can't express... Dean, I love you... but you'll have to bear with me." There's a minuscule sigh, "I'm feeling for the first time in millennia and its... _hard_. I’m sorry.”

 

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Dean replies, turning over in Cas’s arms, pressing in for a light kiss. “I love you,” he adds and he feels safe. “We’ll do this together.”

 

Cas seems to nod and closes his eyes, head fitted right under Dean’s. His hand comes up to stroke Dean’s face, and in a whirl of movement they’re lying in his motel room, still entangled together.

The next morning Dean wakes to gentle brush if Cas’s wings, his body warm beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :D  
> Please leave feedback!


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